


To you, I'll give the world

by ZJpotter



Series: Never Going Back Again [1]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Thor (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, But also, Captain America: The First Avenger, Friendship, Gen, Jotunn Loki (Marvel), Little Mermaid Elements, Loki has complicated feelings about Asgard, Loki has complicated feelings about Thor, M/M, Pre-Thor (2011), very loose little mermaid au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-06
Updated: 2019-05-16
Packaged: 2019-10-23 05:42:30
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,235
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17677496
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ZJpotter/pseuds/ZJpotter
Summary: "It touched you," Loki says.Loki remembers the cold touch on his arm years ago. Watching his arm turn blue.The soldier looks up, pained expression giving way to shock with a little bit of awe (not hatred, for once not hatred) lighting up his eyes.  He has blue eyes. They are….pretty."It's fine," he says and although his voice is breathless, it is pleasant, "Doesn't even hurt anymore."(It would be nice to think that he’d never think of the soldier again. That he had met him once and then all else would be forgotten.He would be lying to himself. )Or Loki winds up falling head over heels for a soldier. Somehow he ends up fighting a war.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome to the Little Mermaid AU that is moving farther from Little Mermaid than I thought. Its there though, trust me.  
> A quick note: this is set during Captain America the First Avenger but Earth is a lot more technologically advanced than it actually was. Earth has a lot more knowledge of space. Also, Loki has been living on Jotunheim for some time now. 
> 
> I think that should be all. I hope you enjoy!

“Loki.” 

“Loki.” 

“LokiLokiLokiLokiLokiLoki-

“There are other ways to get my attention,” Loki says, hardly looking up from his book. 

In front of him, invading his personal space is Kleng, the Jotun child who has been following Loki around for quite some time now.  He comes, everyday, without fail, to this exact same spot (Loki’s designated spot that no one should be able to find it) and sits at Loki’s heels waiting for something. Mischief usually. Loki’s started to wonder if the boy’s parents are a myth and Loki is simply a substitute for them.

“There’s nothing to do.” Kleng says.  

“What do you expect me to do about it?” 

Kleng runs a blue finger over the red binding of the book and then takes it out of Loki’s grip. He slides out of the little alcove and starts walking. 

“This is boring.” 

“That’s because you don’t understand it,” Loki follows. 

“Anything with this amount of words isn’t worth the time,” Kleng opens the book and the spine cracks, sending a jolt of fear down Loki’s spine. 

He rushes forward and snatches up the book sending it into one of his inter-dimensional pockets for safe keeping. The book is one of the only things he has from Asgard. He cares little for Asgard or anything to do with that realm but the book contains stories older than him, than Gungir, and cannot be replaced. 

“You do not touch my things without my permission,” Loki hisses and Kleng only shrugs. 

“You said that there were other ways to get your attention. I thought you might be interested.” 

“I am not interested in anything you have to offer.” 

Kleng tilts his head curiously, “Nothing?” 

“No.”

An impish smile slides its way onto Kleng’s face, “Not even if I told you that there are Midgardians on Jotunheim?”  

The first thing that runs through his mind is that the feasibility of that sentence is non-existent. Just last week, Kleng had told him that there were Midgardians on Asgard. As far as Loki knows, Midgardians had not had contact with its protectorate realm for centuries and they were certainly not advanced enough for Bifrost travel. This is just as easily another one of Kleng’s lies. 

Loki is already walking away from him, “You mistake me for a fool.” 

Kleng rushes in front of him, “I’m telling the truth I swear. I swear on Laufey himself.” 

Loki looks at him for a long time. Kleng’s red eyes stare back, one hand held over his heart in a show of sincerity. Loki rolls his eyes, relenting, and Kleng grins like a madman.

“I promise you will not be disappointed.” 

 

* * *

 

Choosing to live on Jotunheim was not the worst decision he’s ever made. It was, at the time, the better of two evils. Asgard is filled with liars. The All-Father most of all. Jotunheim is filled with, well, his kind. It was only the natural thing to do to go and join them. 

Laufey is a father in name only. Loki is a prince, in name only. Their connection may as well be imagined and Loki has not bothered to try and strengthen it. It is easier to pretend that they are not related that way.

There is no Thor or Heimdall or Bifrost. There are no blindingly golden walls and decorative tapestries lining them. It is just him and the few items he stowed away in his interdimensional pocket. As it should be.

He has no second thoughts. 

* * *

 

Kleng squeezes his way through the caves and Loki follows close behind. They are undetected as they go with no help of Loki’s own magic. Kleng knows things and how to sneak is one of them. 

He halts, a hand up and then it comes in front of his lips. 

_ Quiet.  _

He hears footsteps. Heavy. He knows the sound of armor when he hears it. The number of footsteps cannot belong to a few of them. There must be more. 

“How many?” Kleng asks as if it is a game. Perhaps it is. 

“Twenty at the least. Thirty at most. Armor clad.” 

Kleng hums and keeps moving, eventually poking his head through an opening in the ice, “Thirty. Some of them are us.” 

_ Us.  _

Such a….collective term. 

“They’re so…small. Loki, they’re so tiny. They look weird. Loki, Loki you’ve got to see this.” 

Loki shoves Kleng aside to look through the opening. There are frost giants surrounding the Midgardians like guards and Loki thinks that the Midgardians are not here on a diplomatic mission. 

The Midgardians are…well as Kleng said: tiny. They are dressed similarly but in nothing too remarkable. The most outstanding thing are the Asgardian furs they wear for warmth. 

They look out of place in this land of ice and while some of them look scared or even curious, one does not. 

He is standing in the front, taller than most of his companions. His skin is pale and Loki can make out blond hair from under a fur cap. His stance is determined and protective as if he is trying to be shield for all his companions. 

The gesture is perhaps foolish but …. intriguing. 

“To what do I owe the displeasure Asgardians?” rings his birth-father’s voice from somewhere Loki cannot see.  

_ Asgardians? There are no Asgardians among them.  _

“We mean you no harm,” says a feminine voice. 

Loki recognizes it immediately. It’s the voice of a sword and long dark hair and battle. Sif. 

His heart seizes. 

“You didn’t say there were Asgardians on Jotunheim,” he says to Kleng. 

“I didn’t know.” Kleng almost looks sorry. 

“Our allies just hoped to see the realms they are connected with. What better to start with than here?” 

_ Fandral.  _

Where there are Fandral and Sif there are the rest of Thor’s friends. Where there are Thor’s friends…. there is Thor. Loki looks for him, but Thor must be hidden in the masses. 

“There is no place better to die than on forbidden grounds,” Laufey growls, “Do not think you are welcome or forgiven. Unless you have come to restore what you have stolen.”  

The guards draw in closer and Loki can see the bloodlust on their faces from here. They are gripping their spears tighter, and the Midgardians squish closer, wary. The man in front seems to want to stretch his body to protect his men. 

“They’re going to die,” Kleng says, matter-of-factly. 

They are. Or they might, depending on how stubborn Thor is feeling. Many a times, Loki would be the one to try and get Thor to  _ think _ for once in his life and if he was unable, he’d be the one to get them out of trouble (or into it but that was necessary to get out of trouble). This time, he is watching from a point where he cannot interfere and the Warriors Three will only encourage Thor to fight. 

Kleng is right: they are going to die. 

And wouldn’t it be better that way? 

“My father has rightfully won the Casket,” Thor booms from somewhere.

“You believe the lies he has fed you?” 

“Do not talk ill of the King of Asgard! He is no liar!” 

_ Oh, Thor. So naïve.  _

“Defensive. Testy. You do not have the makings of a King.” 

“You will take that back!”

There’s a movement in the crowd and the guards instantly point their spears towards the group. The blond man in front raises his hands slightly. 

“With all due respect, sir, your Highness,” he stumbles around the title, “you can’t judge someone from how they appear now. People change; we have to let them.” 

Kleng snickers, “He’s a  _ Midgardian _ . What does he know?” 

Loki doesn’t respond, keeping his eyes focused on the blond. There’s a moment of silence and the man’s determined gaze never wavers. 

“Let them go.” Laufey commands. 

The guards step back and Loki sees them all visibly relax. Someone whispers a ‘thank you’ and they start to turn around to collect their weapons. 

Kleng looks a bit disappointed at their departure and Loki almost asks why (he doesn’t really care but Kleng is an exaggerated pouter). Almost. Because he sees Thor now. 

He looks the same as he did when Loki left. Long blonde hair and red cape intact. 

He’s stopped, muscles drawn taut. 

Loki knows what’s going to happen next. He’s seen it happen too many times. 

Mjolnir flies into his hand and he swings, whacking the hammer into the first frost giant that approaches him. The Warriors Three follow suit, swinging their swords wildly and thrusting them into the air or the guts of frost giants. 

“Don’t let them touch you!” someone shouts. 

Kleng shrieks, red eyes widening, “C’mon Loki, it’s time to go.” 

He tugs on Loki’s tunic, but Loki doesn’t budge. He’s frozen in place, eyes watching with morbid fascination at the scene in front of him. 

He’s been apart of so many battles yet never once was he an outsider. 

There is no form to Thor’s attacks while Sif seems to have a mastery of her sword. Hogun’s knives fly through the air with unmatched precision. The frost giants are all brute force, quite sloppy. The Midgardians, while rough, seem to be good defenders as they dodge attacks. 

And then there’s the blond. He’s fighting too, throwing himself in front of his men, proving to Loki he is in fact the leader. A human shield. He does not fight like Thor. He fights as if he does not fit in himself yet has all the confidence in the world. He is fascinating to watch. 

“Loki come  _ on _ -

There’s a frost giant behind the human shield. The Midgardian doesn’t see, too caught up in the fight. 

“Loki-

He is closer. A spear raised pointing dangerously at the mortal's back. 

“Loki we got to go."

He will be run through. He will most certainly die. 

“Loki!” He hears Kleng shout but its muted and floats up into the air. 

Loki twists himself out of hiding, knocking the spear out of the frost giant's grip the moment he is able.A dagger appears in Loki's hand and he thrusts the blade into the frost giant. It crumples to the ground. 

He looks back at the soldier. He seems mostly unharmed. His breathing is a bit labored but perhaps that's from adrenaline. One of his hands is hovering above his wrist as if he is afraid something will happen if he touches it. Loki can see the marks of frostbite climbing up the limb. 

"It touched you," he says. 

Loki remembers the cold touch on his arm years ago. Watching his arm turn blue. 

The soldier looks up, pained expression giving way to shock with a little bit of awe (not hatred, for once not hatred) lighting up his eyes.  He has blue eyes. They are….pretty.

"It's fine," he says and although his voice is breathless it is pleasant, "Doesn't even hurt anymore." 

"Then it is numb then," Loki says. "A frost giant's touch is meant to harm." 

The soldier gives him a long look, perhaps judging if Loki will harm him. Then, he clutches the limb to his chest and drops the subject entirely.

"Does this kind of stuff generally happen 'round here?" 

He gestures to the fight raging on behind him. And around them. It's is odd really how they seem to be completely untouched by everything else. 

Loki's lips quirk up at the corner," Not very. I can't imagine that Midgard doesn't have any fights." 

"Oh we do.  Lot less magic involved." 

He seems to straighten a bit, "Got a name?" 

"I do have a name, yes," Loki nods a bit.

It is before he says his name that Loki remembers himself. He is one of  _ them _ . The enemy frost giant. He shouldn't be making conversation to the first soldier that he saves. There is a line drawn between them and it is better if he stays on his side. 

“Take care of your arm," he says instead and twists him out of the fight. 

* * *

 

 

It would be nice to think that he’d never think of the soldier again. That he had met him once and then all else would be forgotten.

He would be lying to himself. 

It is days after and Loki still does not know the soldier’s name. He ponders it as he reads, the soldier filling his thoughts more than the book. He wonders if Midgardian names are anything like Asgardian names. 

He wonders if the soldier got himself to a healer. That would be the wise decision. Loki really does not know if the frostbite will heal on its own. 

He thinks about the blue of his eyes, the blonde hair sticking out from under a cap, and their conversation. Short, but it was nice. There was hardly anything of substance said but something in Loki's heart stirred a little. It was nice, he supposed, to be able to talk to someone for the sake of just talking. With the exception of Kleng, Jotunheim was not filled with conversationalists. 

He wonders if the soldier thinks about Loki as much as Loki does him. 

It is days after and Kleng sits by Loki's legs, ignoring the peace and quiet Loki had created for himself. Nothing out of the ordinary.

"I found out something today." 

"What was that?" Loki says a bit distractedly. 

"Your  _ lover _ ," Kleng started in a sing-song voice, "has a name." 

Loki pays him no mind although the thought sends a thrill to his heart. He flips the page of his book. 

"Don't you want to know what it is?" Kleng asks and Loki doesn't answer. 

It's become a game to him at this point. Pay no attention to the child and he grows more frustrated. It's amusing. Sometimes. 

"Oh don't tell me your not interested," Kleng says and places his hands on Loki's knees, "C'mon Loki-" 

He moves to climb on his lap and Loki shoves him off with his foot. Kleng pouts but does not look any less deterred. 

"Alright, what is it?" Loki asks.

"Captain." 

"Captain?" Loki repeats. 

Well that is a ridiculous name. 

"Are you sure?"

Kleng nods, certain that that is his name. It doesn't sound right, but maybe Midgardians choose titles as their name.

Captain. 

Loki thinks of the blond soldier standing in front of his men. A leader. A protector. 

It suits him. 

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I have some news for you. It’s about Captain.”
> 
> Loki pushes himself up with a “What is it?” And then winces at how desperate he sounds. 
> 
> “The Midgardians are leaving Asgard today. The All-Father is throwing a party in their honor.”   
> Captain is leaving. Today. 
> 
>  
> 
> In which Loki deals with the events of the previous chapter and enacts a plan to see Captain again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I promise there will be Steve in the next chapter! This just seemed like a good place to stop before I delve into the Captain America world.   
> Thank you so much for reading and leaving kudos and comments! They make my day.   
> I'll try to post as soon as possible. Hopefully before Endgame comes out. I am not prepared for that movie.   
> Until then, Enjoy!

_It is dark and the night air is cool, not cold, just pleasantly cool to chase away any lingering heat. Asgard shimmers out like jewels beneath and around him. The buildings against the sky remind him of a painting almost. Beautiful and permanent._

_“Couldn’t sleep again, brother?” Comes Thor’s voice._

_“Not with your snoring.”_

_Thor gives a short laugh and sits down beside him, “What are you thinking of?”_

_“Do you ever wish,” Loki starts, “ that you could live elsewhere?”_

_“Why would I?”_

_“There are other worlds not just Asgard.”_

_“Those we have visited do not compare,” Thor says and Loki hums, discontent._

_Thor means well (sometimes), but he does not understand. He’s too attached to Asgard to understand._

_“Yes, but they are something. There is more out there than just this. Nine realms Thor. Nine. And why must we be restricted to a few? I don’t understand.”_

_There’s a quick moment and he’s sure Thor has left before Thor booms out a laugh and claps his hand on his back, leaving it there._

_“Mother has always said you are restless.”_

_Restless, because yes, that is what this is. This feeling of not quite belonging and not quite detachment that seems to grow every time air is sucked into his lungs. It does not feel like restlessness._

_Loki opens his mouth to retort that he does not like being made fun of until he sees the look in Thor’s eye. He knows that look. Thor has a horribly rash idea._

_“Perhaps we can do something about that.”_

Loki’s eyes shoot open, sleep leaving him as they do. The ceiling is blue, but not like the stars above Asgard. He sits up, just a bit, to look around. It is his room looking just as spare as it always does (the bed, a desk, and four walls), the only difference is that Kleng has curled up at the foot of his bed, fast asleep. Jotunheim.

Not Asgard.

Just a dream then. No, that is not right. A memory. A dream wouldn’t taste as sour.

He can feel someone knocking on his door, or trying to, the working he put on the outside forbids entry if he doesn’t allow it.

Loki slips off the bed, going across the floor to open the door. A woman stands there, the blue of her skin blending in with everything else.

“Your Highness,” she says fumbling over the title like she doesn't know what to call him.

Loki doesn’t correct her.

“The king wishes to see you.”

“What for?”

“He didn’t say.”

Of course he didn’t.

Loki steps out of the door way, letting it close shut behind him. He offers a bitter smile, showing all his teeth.

“Well then, I wouldn’t want to keep him waiting.”

\------------------------

Uncertainty is crawling up his spine, but he shoves it down mercilessly. Laufey has never once sought Loki out. It is always Loki who seeks him out if he must. He tries to make it an uncommon occurrence.

Laufey is on his throne, towering over Loki even sitting.

The woman bows low, and waits for Loki to do the same, but he does not. Laufey dismisses her.

“Prince of Asgard,” Laufey says.

“Of Jotunheim,” Loki shoots back, “I am of Jotun blood."

Your blood.

“Your loyalties lie in Asgard.”

"Asgard means nothing to me, I assure you."

Laufey turns his head towards him, stares a while. Loki doesn't move. He knows what Laufey is looking for - a sign he is not as loyal to Jotunheim as he says he is. He will not give him that.

"You saved the Midgardian."

Loki raises an eyebrow. The Midgardian, the blue-eyed soldier who Loki could not get out of his head. That one? Had Laufey being paying that close attention?

“I did.”

“You saved the Midgardian yet killed one of your ‘own’”.

"Midgardians have short lives," Loki says rather flippantly, "Ragnarok will not come if I let one have his. Besides, if I had let the soldier die it would be blood on our hands. He is under Asgardian protection and I do not think that Odin would take lightly to his death. Saving him was preventing war.”

Laufey seems to consider this before chuckling, “You are smarter than you look.”

“Or you underestimate me.”

He shouldn’t be surprised. He is quite used to that from him of all people. 

“If that is what you have called me for, then my apologies,” The apology is empty; he would save the soldier over and over again if he could, “I did not think you would care about a life so insignificant."

Laufey grunts and his eyes narrow and Loki can feel the king's eyes examine him fully, "I do not."

Loki considers feigning hurt. This wasn't news to him; it was made plain as day when he found out the truth of his heritage. He doesn't dare give Laufey the satisfaction.

"Ah yes. You made that clear when you abandoned the wretch to die."

Abandoned it to play Asgardian. To play Jotun. To pretend, but never truly be.

Something clicks then. Some hollow feeling nestles itself between his ribs and makes its home there. It is cold, colder than his blood and Loki knows its signal well. It’s a flighty little feeling, annoying and seemingly easy to ignore, but it tugs at the brain until you have no choice but to obey.

_Restless_ , a voice that sounds like Thor’s says.

It’s time to leave; he no longer belongs here.

Well, he is not one to overstay his welcome.

"The wretch," Laufey spits out the word, "was and is still weak. I was doing it a favor."

"You'd think so. Leaving a babe to die would be your kind of mercy."

"My kind of mercy is letting it stay. You were never welcome here."

“I presumed as much,” Loki says, “Foolish of me to think so. Why then, why let me stay?”

There’s a silence and Laufey turns away from him. Loki holds his ground, keeping his feet planted, hands going in and out of fists at his sides.

He vaguely registers that it’s snowing.

“Why let me stay?” He asks again, a bit louder, “Surely you weren’t feeling remorseful. Surely you-”

“Watch how you speak.”

"Why? Because you're my king? My father?" Loki asks, a sharp smile forming on his face, "It’s a little late for that now, isn’t it? You cannot tell me to obey you when you do not even acknowledge me. I am a prince, I am your heir-”

“You are a piece,” Laufey says and something in Loki stills. “Odin will, one way or another, wish for his “son” back. He cannot keep the Casket of Ancient Winters forever. I will not allow it.”

Loki closes his eyes, huffs out a laugh.

Of course.

A bargaining piece. Well, if the All-Father and Laufey can agree on anything it’s that. 

What more is he?

He opens his eyes again, slowly, but bites down on the inside of his cheek to keep from speaking. He does not trust his voice at the moment.

Laufey turns his red eyes on him again and Loki has never been more aware of how blue his own skin is.

“You are dismissed.”

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

When he gets back, Kleng is gone. Loki flops down on the bed, quite unceremoniously, and lets the pillows contain his screams.

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

There is truly, nowhere to go. Jotunheim and Asgard are as good as dead to him and the other Nine Realms are either too closely tied or inhabitable. He has pondered going outside the Nine, but his power does not extend that far.

So, he is trapped.

Just like before.

_“Perhaps we can do something about that.”_

It was Thor who brought him here but there is no Thor to get him out. Of course there isn't. 

Loki stays in his room and lets the hollow feeling fester. Kleng comes and goes. Mostly goes because Loki will not participate in his mischief. One of Laufey’s Jotun maidens comes and tells him about dinner, but he doesn’t attend. Sometimes, though, there will be food leftover that he can snag in the middle of the night.

He thinks about Captain and wonders how he’s faring. He thinks that they would be wonderful together.

It’s during one of these daydream moments that Kleng pops in. He takes his usual spot at the foot of the bed.

“Loki!”

“Yes? I’m a bit busy.”

“No, you’re not.”

“The mind is a busy place.”

He can’t see it, but he can feel Kleng’s eyes roll.

“I have some news for you. It’s about Captain.”

Loki pushes himself up with a “What is it?” And then winces at how desperate he sounds.

“The Midgardians are leaving Asgard today. The All-Father is throwing a party in their honor.” 

Captain is leaving. Today.

Asgard may be dead to him, but Midgard……

_Well, you’ve found the answer to your question, haven’t you?_

Kleng is still looking at him, rather expectantly, actually.

“If I asked you to get me something from the pantry, would you?” Loki asks.

The expectant look changes to confusion but Kleng nods anyway.

“Good. Something to eat then? Anything in there will be fine.”

“Can I get something for myself too?”

“I don’t see why you need to ask for permission for yourself.”

Kleng grins and sprints out of the room, most likely thinking of a way to fit all the stolen goods in his arms. When he is certain that Kleng is gone, Loki makes his way out of his room. He is not hungry, not at all, but leaving has always seemed easier when there is no one to interfere.

The seal on his door comes down in shimmering green light, allowing anyone to enter if they please once more.

There. It is just a spare room again.

The hallway is dark and Loki moves though it with long strides, but a casual step. If it looks as if he has nowhere in particular to be, there will be no questions asked. It is unlikely anyone would bother to stop him if he does look suspicious, but it’s safer this way. An extra precaution would be allowing himself to remain unseen as he had on Asgard, but no one here is that observant.

They won’t even notice he’s gone.

Sometimes Loki wonders what it’s like on Asgard without him. Surely, they have noticed that there is one prince and not two at the feasts and celebrations. Or perhaps they haven’t noticed at all and are simply relishing in the golden child’s greatness. They may not miss him at all (A smaller part of Loki almost wants them to miss him, but he regards that as childish and ignores it). 

Either way, Loki supposes, it doesn’t matter because he is not here to stay. Asgard is only a detour to Captain and then he can be rid of Asgard and Jotunheim both.

“Loki!”

He’s pulled out of his own thoughts by the oh-so-familiar voice of Kleng. Kleng, who’s not supposed to have caught up to him.

“Where are you going?” Kleng asks walking twice as fast to keep up with him.

Loki ignores him, doesn’t even look at him, just keeps walking until his boots crunch on snow instead of cheap flooring.

“Loki, where are you going?”

“Why does it matter?”

“I looked for you in your room. You weren’t there. I got kicked out before I could steal anything. They threatened to tell my parents so I told them that I’m friends with the Prince so I can get anything I want. And you know what they said?”

“No, I wasn’t there,” Loki says rather dryly.

Kleng keeps talking seeming to have forgotten about his interest in Loki’s whereabouts. Loki tries to make it background noise.

He just needs to leave without being seen.

“I should be able to get anything I want. I mean, I’m practically your brother.”

That stops him. The word crawls up Loki’s spine, cold like the climate of Jotunheim, and causes him to turn on his heel to stare down at the child.

“My what?”

“Brother,” Kleng repeats like he doesn’t know the magnitude of that word.

And maybe he doesn't. Kleng doesn’t have brothers. Or sisters. Loki isn’t even sure he didn’t make up his parents.

Brother is a strong word. A very strong word. It’s a word that comes with a heavy attachment to the person you are referring to. A bond that cannot be broken easily (unless you force it to break, hard and fast and only then it will crumble and you can throw away the pieces).

Loki sucks in a breath through his teeth. It’s better to get it over with now.

“I’m leaving for Asgard.”

Kleng blinks his red eyes a few times, “What?”

“I’m leaving for Asgard. I am attending the All-Father’s celebration and then I will leave with the Midgardian soldiers for Midgard.”

Kleng narrows his eyes, “You’re going to leave. That is stupid.”

“I wouldn’t do anything stupid.”

“Laufey will never let you leave.”

“He won’t find out. You will not say a word.”

“You will not say a word of this to Thor or..or the All-Mother.”

“I won’t,” Kleng pledges, “because I’m your friend. You’re best and only friend. Who you’re leaving behind for some back-water realm, weak-willed being!”

“He is not weak-willed. You do not know him.”

“Neither do you!” Kleng folds his arms over his chest, “You don’t know him, but you know me. Friends don’t leave each other. Friends go off on adventures together and discover things together. Where you just going to leave and not tell me?”

Loki considers his answer, “That was the idea, yes.”

This only seems to make Kleng more distressed. He paces around a bit before coming back and hitting Loki square in the chest with his fist. He doesn’t do it again, just lets his fists hang out at his sides. His head is hanging low and he gives miserable little sniffs. He reminds Loki of Volstagg’s kids.

Loki crouches down so Kleng can look at him.

“I thought, rather foolishly, that I could live here. Make this place my home of sorts. Now I see that I do not truly fit nor do I belong here. This may be your home, but it is not mine. My leave has been a long time coming. This just gives me a place to go.”

Kleng is silent for a moment and then gives the most resigned sign Loki’s ever heard, “If you leave, you must promise not to forget me.”

“I could never.”

Kleng nods and then Loki stands up. He pulls a leather-bound book out of his cache and presents it to the smaller frost giant.

“It's a book,” Kleng’s nose wrinkles.

“Yes. You could do with some reading.”

Kleng scoffs, but takes the book anyway holding it close to his chest, “Okay. Let’s go get your Captain.”

\----------------------------------------------------

They are standing on open space, far away from any roaming eyes. Just the two of them in Loki’s (hopefully) last moment on Jotunheim. It isn’t the most attractive realm, he’s come to realize. It is crumbling and desolate and harsh. Sometimes Loki wonders what is was like before the war. Perhaps then it had some glory.

With a little concentration, Loki wills himself to change. Blue skin for pale Aesir skin, intricate ridges smoothing into nothing. Just that change allows him to breathe easier.

“You look better blue.”

I don’t. Loki wants to say it, but instead holds his tongue. He would no doubt get into an argument with the boy. That would only serve to delay him.

Heimdall, great gatekeeper of Asgard, could see everything. He could watch over all of Asgard, all of the Nine Realms, and never leave his spot holding Hofund. Nothing escaped the gaze of his golden eyes. Nothing except for Loki. Learning to shield himself (and others if he so desired) from the gatekeeper had been a task he’d taken upon himself to learn. Frigga had not bothered to teach him it, and never would; Heimdall was a safety precaution when you had two young princes who got into things. Loki never liked having those extra set of eyes on his back. Frigga could trust him just fine without Heimdall.

Loki had not been seen by Heimdall in centuries.

Allowing the gatekeeper to see him again feels like peeling off a second skin, leaving him flayed open to the world. He supposes he will be once he reaches Asgard.

Loki pushes down the anxiety that’s taking root in his stomach, and tilts his head up to the sky.

“Heimdall, open the Bifrost!”

And just like that Kleng and Jotunheim are left behind in a white blur.

\------------------------------------------------------

The first thing that Loki is aware of is the all-encompassing gold. It gleams and casts its warm glow around the room. It's the first warm that Loki’s encountered in agree.

He’s suddenly nauseous.

“Welcome home.”

Loki’s suddenly aware of the gatekeeper’s presence. Heimdall is there holding onto the handle of Hofund, just as he predicted. He’s staring at him, but Loki cannot discern his expression.

Loki bites back a scowl and keeps his own countenance equally vague.

“You’ve returned.”

“Stating the obvious now are we, Heimdall?” Loki says dryly. “You can say what you really wish to know. Why I’ve come back.”

Heimdall keeps his eyes on Loki as Loki moves across the floor hands clasped behind his back. He runs his plan through his head as he does so. Make his way into the feast undetected, find Captain, make sure that no one- especially not Thor or Odin or Frigga- sees him, leave with Captain for Midgard, don’t come back. It should be simple enough. If he could just get past Heimdall.

“You have been gone for long. The All-Father thought you might not come back.”

“Did he now?” Loki mutters. “He’s correct, I haven’t come back,”

Loki spreads his hands and a glamour spreads over his body. An Einherjar. He will blend right in with all the others who will no doubt come in uniform.

“What are you planning?” Heimdall asks.

“So quick to assume. I’m not planning anything sinister, you have my word.”

If you don’t trust me, you could always spy on me.

Heimdall seems placated, for now at least. Loki has no doubt that he will most likely alert someone of his presence, but that’s a bridge to cross later. Now?

He has a Captain to find.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Loki, that poor unfortunate soul, strikes a deal.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all the lovely attention this fic has been getting! And thank you for waiting patiently! I've been a bit busy and this chapter was not an easy one to write. Honestly, this story just keeps on changing, (But I promise I know what's going on. Mostly). We're moving along, about to get into some serious plot within the end of this chapter and the next.   
> Without further ado, the story:

Loki is no stranger to Asgardian celebrations. He’s attended enough of them to know how to behave. He knows that everyone will be gathered in the palace which has been cleaned three times over to make sure you can see your reflection in the gold. He knows the women will have their hair in intricate braids down their backs or wrapped around their heads and the men will wear their best armor or robes. He knows how many types of meat there is prepared (Four. He’s counted many-a-time). 

He knows that the Einherjar enter the palace together as they proceed in before the royal family. Afterwards would follow the children and then the All-Father and All-Mother. The procession was always Thor’s favorite part. He always made a show of grinning and waving and winking to make women blush. Loki did too at one point until he realized all eyes were on Thor. 

Loki waits, leaning against the hallway wall, with the other men clad in heavy armor. He recognizes some of them; General Tyr is at the front as always. No one recognizes Loki, thank the Norns. 

Being back on Asgard is already too much for Loki to bear. The walls of the palace, his former home, are stifling. They smother him with memories he’d rather forget, forcing them down his throat until he chokes on them. All at once he is reminded why he left, of how much he doesn’t belong here. 

_ Imposter prince.  _

If someone were to recognize him now, if somehow he lets go of his disguise, then this could all fall apart. He would never get to Captain. He would never get to Midgard. Someone would give him to Odin-

Something hard jostles him and pulls his mind out of the spiral it almost so dangerously entered. They’re going in. That’s nice. 

Keeping his head up, Loki follows the Einherjar through the heavy brown doors that lead to the Halls of Asgard. 

Loki was right. Everything looks exactly like he pictured it. It is crowded with people all eager to see the Midgardians off. The Asgardians are already there dressed in golden and silver robes, their hair done in ornate styles. At first glance, he can pick out a few faces he knows and then a few more the longer he stares. He turns his gaze forward after that. Up on the steps of  Hliðskjálf are Sif and the Warriors Three. They wait patiently and Loki would almost think they are statues from how still they stand if it weren’t for the poorly smothered laugh Fandral gives. 

Always telling jokes those four. 

The Einherjar come to stand at either side of the pathway up to Hliðskjálf, standing their staffs upright like the columns that line the halls. 

Loki knows what will come next and he steels himself for it. 

All of Asgard falls silent as their prince walks down. He is dressed in his shiny silver armor, red cape billowing behind him. He does not wear his helmet and Loki is thankful for it. He always thought that the helmet was ridiculous. Mjolnir is swinging at Thor’s side as he goes to take his place on the steps.

Loki’s  spot is empty next to Thor’s.

The All-Father and All-Mother come in next. Loki does not look at Odin.  One of Frigga’s arms are linked with Odin’s and she smiles gently. She smiles gently at everyone, at  _ him  _ and Loki bites down hard on the inside of his cheek because some hidden of him misses that smile. 

He never said goodbye to her.

He still won’t. 

Odin and Frigga walk up to Hliðskjálf and Loki can breathe again. Odin settles in his seat and taps Gungnir against the ground twice. 

“Our allies, the Midgardians,” Odin booms from his seat and Loki’s heart skips a beat, “under the guidance of Captain Steven Grant Rogers.” 

_ Captain Steven Grant Rogers. _

Of course his name isn’t Captain. It’s simply a title. Steven. 

Captain Steven Grant Rogers is in front, dressed in an olive green suit with medallions pinned on the front. His blonde hair is combed neatly, parted down the middle. Although his smile is small, it is boyish and he uses it to greet those that came to see him off. 

He’s just as Loki remembered and more than that. 

____________________________________________________________

Afterwards, he manages to find Steven in the crowd. Rather he hears Thor’s obnoxiously loud laughter first and then sees Steven. It’s no surprise the two are around each other. Loki can already tell they share some similarities, mainly bravery, although Thor is more brash about it. 

Accompanying Steve and Thor, are Sif, the Warriors Three, and some of Steven’s soldiers. Fandral has one leg propped up on a table as he speaks to their audience. Groups of Asgardian men, women, and children are all sitting at their feet listening to the story with their full attention. 

Volstagg chugs back a mug of ale, “A frost giant touched him and he lived.” 

He gestures at the Captain with his mug. Fandral’s eyes light up even further. 

“He’s got the mark to prove it,” Fandral says, “Show them Steve.” 

Steven very carefully rolls up one of his sleeves. Where there should be pale skin, is red irritable coloration. It looks like it’s healing but Loki can make out the very obvious frostbite that had been there. The red makes a swirling pattern and Loki is reminded of the ridges of his Jotun skin.

The Asgardians lean in closer in wonder. Steve rolls his sleeve back down, not one for being the subject of attention it would seem. 

“He touched you and got away with it?” an Asgardian man asks. 

“Well, I was in a bit of shock,” Steve admits sheepishly. “I wasn’t able to do anything. Another frost giant got to him before I did. He came in out of nowhere and ….he protected me.” 

Steve absentmindedly traces his forearm with a finger, pretty blue eyes seemingly looking straight at Loki.

_ He’s talking about you! You protected him! _

Loki wants to smile in pride, but he manages to keep a straight face. 

“It couldn’t have been a frost giant who did that,” says a light haired Asgardian woman. “They don’t protect us. They want to hurt us. You were probably next on its line to kill.” 

A bunch of murmurs spread throughout the crowd. 

“Maybe so ma’am, but he must have changed his mind because he left. I didn’t even get his name.” 

Loki doubts his Captain’s ability to change of all Asgard’s worldview with just a few words, but it is nice to see him try. 

“Steve the Jotun tamer!” Fandral claps him on the back with a hearty laugh and Steve’s smile is uneasy. 

“How did you escape?” asks a child and Sif bends down to his level to recount the tale. 

The children listen in awe as they hear of Asgard’s brave warriors and when the story ends, they rush up shouting promises of “victory  for Asgard”. One of them even lifts his fist in a mock of Thor’s hammer because Thor is  _ such _ a good role model. 

Loki’s decided he’s had enough of this. He’s here for Steve and to leave and he will-

“How are you enjoying the celebration?” 

Loki’s blood turns cold (colder). He knows that voice, he hates that voice. Loki turns around to see the All-Father standing before him. He’s gripping his staff and wearing a light smile that looks so horribly wrong on his face.

The question isn’t directed at him. He can slip out undetected. He has to leave  _ now _ . 

“Oh it’s great,” Steve says and the smile is genuine. “Thank you. We really appreciate all you’ve done for us.” 

“It is the least we could do for our allies,” Odin scans the ground and then his eye lands on Loki. “I would like to have a word with you if you don’t mind.”

Drat. 

“Me?” 

“Yes. I am in need of insight I believe you can provide.” 

There are plenty of other Einherjar the All-Father could have (and should have) asked. There are more than a few in this very circle. They all stand at attention, wide eyed and ready to serve their king. Loki is not. Yet Odin chose him. Odin is no fool; Loki would not do well to think him so. 

“Of course, All-Father,” Loki smiles, slow and sickly sweet and follows. 

______________________________________________________________________________

Being in a room alone with the man he once called father had not been in his plans. It had not been in his plans for the next few millennia of his life. Yet here he is. Standing disguised before him, stomach ready to turn itself inside out. 

This is all too familiar. The horrible anticipation that has rooted itself in his lungs. The separation of the two of them from the rest of Asgard-whatever is said here is not to be discussed. He’s seen this all before and he hates it. He  _ hates _ it. 

_ The Casket wasn’t the only thing you took from Jotunheim that day, was it? _

Loki shoves that thought down and locks the key. Instead he focuses on the pacing figure of Odin. 

“What is it you wanted to discuss?” Loki asks.

Odin stops and turns, “You’ve come back.” 

_ He knows. He knows. He can see right through you.  _

_ Shut up.  _

“I’m afraid you may have mistaken me for someone else, All-Father.” 

“It is good to see you home, Loki. 

Loki’s glamour disintegrates without his permission. Odin saw through his magic. Odin has never been able to see through any of Loki’s glamours before. Is he that out of touch? How could he possibly know he was on Asgard? (Heimdall most likely told someone of his arrival and that person spread the word to the All-Father. How many others know that he’s here?) 

“This is not my home,” Loki spits. 

Arguing over the technicalities of one’s home is always a good topic to buy one some time. 

“Yet it is where we have raised you and where you have lived.” 

“Not by choice.” 

Odin’s face falls a bit and satisfaction replaces a bit of the unease in Loki’s system. 

“Why have you returned, Loki?” 

“That is of no importance to you.” 

“Is is not? My son had disappeared without a trace and now has returned to a place he vowed never to come back to. Heimdall could not see you. Where have you been? Why are you here?” 

A minuscule part of Loki is overjoyed the All-Father thought to ask Heimdall of his whereabouts. He squashes that childish part all too quickly. 

“Maybe you did not understand, All-Father,” Loki says. “It is none of your concern. Do not ask me.” 

Odin’s frown deepens but he does not scold like Loki expects him to. He then resumes his pacing and Loki watches him. The king makes slow movements as if he were taking a casual stroll in the gardens. It’s only a leisurely walk but it feels more like a stalk a predator does before they sink their claws into their prey. 

This room is a cage and it is much to small.

“It’s the Captain isn’t it?” Odin says, coming to a stop. 

“I’m afraid I don’t know your meaning.” 

“The Midgardian. Steven.”

Loki’s thoughts go horribly blank and he cannot think of a response. 

“I noticed your interest.  You have not managed to keep your eyes off of him.” 

Loki bristles, “I was merely watching him. We don’t have Midgardians on Asgard last time I checked.” 

“He is a mortal, Loki. Their lives are short, insignificant. They are gone before our lives have even begun. You have the sense, I believe, not to become enamored with one. Or am I wrong?” 

For a moment he is reminded of Kleng’s protests. The other eight realms (Loki included) do not tend to look well upon Midgardians. Loki remembers lesson after lesson learning about the Nine realms and the message about Midgard was always the same. They are ignorant and self-centered and uncivilized and weak and they need our protection even if they do not know of our presence. 

Except they have now. They are on Asgard. They have managed, somehow, to contact Asgard with whatever primitive technology they have. 

And Steve. There is always Steve who he barely knows but will know. And Loki does not dole out trust easily. 

“I am not  _ enamored _ .” 

“And I am not Bor’s son.” Odin’s lips twist in something that could be the beginning of a smile, but it falls, “Do you plan to go with him? To Midgard?” 

There’s no sense in hiding. 

“Yes.” 

“And what will you do there, Loki? Midgard is trapped in its own conflict, war driven and violent. They will need soldiers not sedir, to defeat their enemies. Your power is not needed there.” 

“And clearly,” Loki says before he can stop himself, “it is not needed here either. You’re all doing fine without me.” 

“The realms cannot stop for you, my son. No matter how much your mother may want it to.” 

Frigga, but not you. (It’s a comfort, a small one, that she cares about him.) Of course Odin was never concerned. He was never concerned for Loki’s whereabouts, always Thor. Thor the soldier. The strong one. The Aesir one. 

(Unwanted. Out of place. Wrong. Restless. And they wonder, if they do wonder, why Loki left?) 

Loki wonders what Odin told them after he left. 

“I don’t need sedir,” Loki says even though every fiber of his being says otherwise, “Whatever conflict Midgard is dealing with, I can fight it just as well as Asgard’s men can.” 

Something passes over Odin’s features then, and Loki for all his smarts cannot figure it out. It looks something like his face when he realizes a choice he must make to protect the people of Asgard. It worries him. 

There goes his stomach again. 

“Midgard then.” 

Gungir is in the All-Father’s hand and he holds it outward, so that the points of the spear are touching Loki’s chest. They do not press down, just rest there. 

He’s seen this happen before. 

It’s an oath, a deal. 

“I do not know what you wish to gain out of Midgard, Loki,” says Odin, “but I offer you a bargain of sorts, if you choose to take it. You say you do not need sedir and I shall take your word. If you should accept, you may go to Midgard but must give up your sedir. You shall only gain your sedir, if you succeeded in fulfilling your quest on Midgard. Yet if you should fail, you return home, to Asgard.” 

_ You were supposed to be doing this on your terms, not his.  _

_ He wasn’t supposed to know.  _

_ You need your sedir, don’t be foolish.  _

Loki thinks of the gnawing black hole in the middle of his chest, no longer connected to any place he calls his own. He thinks of Steve’s pretty blue eyes. 

_ I will not go back to Asgard. I will not fail.  _

He fights to turn this back to his own terms. 

“You will not tell Thor or the All-Mother,” Loki grinds out. “Lie to them, I don’t care, but you will not tell them I was here or where I am. You will not address me as your son or as a prince of Asgard. The second prince of Asgard is still lost.” 

Odin nods, “If that is what you wish.” 

“It is.” 

“Then Loki, may the Norns have mercy on you.” 

The prongs of the spear are released. The floor comes up to meet him. 

_____________________________________________________

Having one’s magic be removed from their body is a little like having one’s soul be detached from their body, Loki thinks. Or perhaps this is how one feels when they are deprived of oxygen. Either is an accurate comparison. 

He’s not mortal. That much he knows and it doesn’t hurt, not yet anyway. Rather he can’t feel anything. He can barely stand on his own and the amount of support it took to help him across the rainbow bridge was quite embarrassing. He hopes Steve didn’t pay him any mind. 

When they reach the Bifrost, the Midgardians are already there, Steven amongst them. He’s talking to Heimdall who seems to be entertaining him with a hint of a smile on his usually stoic features. Thor and his band of idiots are nowhere to be found and Loki notes that that must mean they won’t be coming. Perfect! 

The situation is much too delicate for their brashness anyways. Midgard is in a conflict with itself, the nations warring against one another, unifying themselves to defeat the determined enemy. It’s so much more than fighting, there are alliances, strategies, and Thor would not be able to see that. 

“My king,” Heimdall says, bowing his head, and then he shoots a look at Loki. 

Loki remembers he cannot hide himself from Heimdall’s sight. He feels exposed. 

“Thank you Heimdall for watching them,” Odin says. 

He turns to the Midgardians, “I cannot accompany you personally, as you know Asgard needs me here. I hope the battle is won swiftly. As promised, I send with you some of Asgard’s best warriors and Loki, my most trusted diplomat. His knowledge about the Nine realms is unmatched and he is known for his Silvertongue. A wordsmith.  If need be, can provide aid in your fight.” 

Odin loosens his grip on Loki’s shoulder and discreetly pushes him away. Everyone looks at him and the stares combined with the words make him feel like he is on display. Maybe he should do a spin so they can get a better look. 

No matter, they believe the lie anyway. Odin is as good as a liar as Loki is a sedir wielder. 

Steve bows at the waist, a bit clumsily, and Loki smiles at the attempt. When Steve meets his eyes again, he is slightly red faced but he sticks his hand out. 

“Captain Rogers,” he says, “but most people just call me Steve.” 

Loki grips his hand in his own, “Loki of...well most just call me Loki.”

_ You dolt. You really are enamored _ . 

Steve gives his hand a shake and then goes back to stuffing his hands in his pockets. He stares ahead at Heimdall. 

“Have you ever traveled by Bifrost Captain Rogers?” Loki inquires. 

“Yes sir,” Steve says with a small smile. “I hope I’m not offending anyone when I say it wasn’t the most pleasant experience.”

“It’s one you get used to I suppose.” 

Steve huffs out a laugh, “Lots of things to get used to. Don’t know if I ever will.” 

He doesn’t even try to hide the wonder on his face as he looks at Asgard’s architecture. It’s charming. 

“Mm,” Loki says, “it is easier, I find, to stay one step ahead. Less surprises that way.” 

“Surprises can be good. They certainly make things exciting. Keep you on your toes.” 

That is one way to look at it. It’s very optimistic of him. 

“I guess that’s one way to look at it.” Loki says earning him one of the Captain’s lopsided boy-ish smiles. 

They cluster together, a motley mix of Asgardian and mortals. Odin stands by Heimdall, watching them. 

“I cannot go with you,” he says, “for Asgard needs me here. Even so, this realm will always be ready if you need. If you never see these halls again, I hope Asgard was good to you.”

It wasn’t. Neither was Jotunheim. Midgard will be. Midgard will be different. There will be no Odin, no Thor, there will be nothing to compare him (or himself) to. 

If all is well, and all  _ will _ go well, he’ll have Steve. And that’s all that will matter. 

Loki lifts his chin, looking almost defiantly at Heimdall and Odin before the Bifrost sweeps them away. 

_________________________________________

Loki lands, quite roughly, on his hands and knees. Travelling via Bifrost is not new to him and has never left him unsteady since he was a boy so he chalks it up to the fact his magic was just recently removed. 

There is dirt beneath him, not grass or paved road. Above, a blue sky and around are  tall trees, skinny branches decorated with needles. Upon further inspection he can see white tents pitched up and a few metal shacks. There are vehicles with no roofs and big four wheels-cars- and people riding on them as it bumps across the rough ground. The men dressed in the same uniform as the Midgardian soldiers he arrived with. There are more of them walking about, some with helmets on, others with weapons slung across their shoulders. Its busy, but not in the way Asgard’s center is. There is no sense of causal-ness here. There’s determination, a fighting spirit  instead.

“Welcome home.” Steve says and one of the soldiers gives a “whoop”. 

Loki stands up, slowly. Takes it all in. 

“This is….this is….Midgard?” 

“The one and only,” says a soldier. 

“It’s not as fancy as you think it is,” someone else says.

There’s laughter, but it isn’t mocking. Not even in the slightest. 

Loki laughs in relief.  _ Midgard, You made it. _

“Captain Rogers!” 

The first thing Loki sees are bright red lips, followed by bouncing brown locks. A woman, dressed in a green suit with pins attached to the collar, strides up to them. Her walk is filled with the same determination as the rest of the place, maybe even more so judging by the way the Midgardian soldiers snap to attention. The Einherjar stare in curiosity. 

She is considerably shorter than the Captain, Loki realizes, when she comes to stand in front of them. 

“You’re late,” the woman says. An accent. 

The Captain seems to be resisting a smile, “Space travel doesn’t exactly have a time.” 

One of the woman’s boots scuffs at the mark that the Bifrost burned into the already dry ground, “Tell that to the Commander. Or better yet, Sergeant Barnes, he will not stop his ramblings about you.” 

Someone clears their throat. The tips of Steve’s ears turn pink and the woman glares at whoever interrupted. Whatever ease she was slipping into with Steve fades, and she’s all business again. She focuses on her newcomers, not even batting an eye at how oddly dressed they are. 

“I hope your trip wasn’t too long. Afternoon boys, welcome to Earth. I am Agent Carter.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!


End file.
